Home Is Where She Is
by LittleGooseWalking
Summary: What if Olivia never regained her personality? Never escaped? Only Peter can help her remember were she belongs. She crossed over for him, now it's Peter's turn. Mini-sequel to HIWTHI.
1. AN

**Important – Please read**

_(as a heads up, in general, I like to play around only with certain parts of the show, something's I like to write about, but then the next episode airs and it muddles everything up)_

Okay for everyone who hasn't read the original; this is a slight sequel to Home Is Where The Heart Is, my first fanfic. This **can be read stand alone**, the only continuing theme is the title and its meaning, with a slight mention of the last chapter of Home Is Where The Heart Is. I've been thinking of doing a series of stories from episode arcs or character history's using the title as a backbone.

Keep in mind that **all** of the Over Here episodes with Bolivia occur (just without the sleeping together part of 3x04 Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep), but **none** of Olivia's Over There episodes happen except 3x01 Olivia. (So there is No Bolivia Pregnancy or Henry, or attempted escapes from our Olivia, or Walternate's experiments on her, in this he isn't interested in the Cortexiphan, only Bolivia and the missing piece.)

And Sam Weiss was only for Olivia when she returned the first time and her leg was healing – he has nothing to do with the Machine or the Universes.

Got it? Okay.

I wrote this idea before I decided it as a mini-sequel. I actually wrote this back in November of 2010, so most of season 3 (and now season 4) hadn't happened when I had wanted to write this (but then, of course I got distracted. I am, as always, the Master of Procrastination, ooh I call dibs on that if no-one else has, or at least understudy of the Master of Procrastination :P)

If at anytime things start to not make sense, PM me and I'll sort it out for you. I've noticed with other stories, that while it all makes sense in my head, I tend to confuse people, so let me know :D

Hope you enjoy, the first chapter will be up just after I post this.

~LGW


	2. Aftermath of Discovering

_A/N: So there are two parts to this story: the rescue and the machine (so lots of angst) for the first part. _

_Part two is full of fluff, plain P/O and totally OOC (to make up for the angst in part 1). Haven't decided on smut yet, so its staying T for now, oh and her step father plays a part in the end. _

_Also, I'm Australian, so spelling differences example: mum/mom, favour/favor...etc. _

**OOOOOO**

**1. Aftermath of Discovering **

_A/N: set after they returned with Bolivia after Season 2 finale. _

She wasn't the same. It was beyond obvious. It wasn't her. Even Walter high-on-god-knows-what could tell something was different. But Broyles had given them orders. They were forced to play house with her, work with her, and pretend that they were none the wiser. Peter hated having to pretend to be ignorant. He knew. They all knew.

"We need to know what she is doing here. My other-self sent her over for a reason. She has a mission; otherwise they wouldn't have swapped our Olivia for theirs."

"Walter! I can't believe you of all people would agree to this! They have her, Over There, doing god-knows-what to her, while we all play house with this imposter!"

Peter was fuming now. They had locked themselves in Broyles' office while they discussed the . . . . situation.

"I understand, Peter, but this is a unique situation. We only learnt of a shapeshifter's mission _after_ they were killed. We have one of their operatives here; we know that they have _some_ mission. We have an opportunity, we must take it."

Why must his father be lucid all of a sudden? Peter honestly liked it better when his view could be swayed to agree with Peter's.

"Broyles? You can't possibly agree with this?"

"Unfortunately, I do. But I know that we must find a way to get Agent Dunham back. Walter, do we have any means of crossing over again?"

"No. Without Olivia and the cortexiphan subjects, or Bell, I'm afraid it will take quite a while to copy Belly's design. I watched him build it, I'm just afraid that we might have to substitute some of the parts and the material used."

"How long will this take, Walter?" Broyles asked the scientist.

Walter thought for a moment, "A few months, at most."

"A few _months_! Walter, you can't be serious? We can't leave her Over There for a few months!" Peter was near yelling. If they hadn't been in the Federal building he would be beyond yelling by now.

"Peter, they wanted their Olivia here for a reason. It only stands to assume that they will keep our Olivia alive for when they swap them back. Remember, an object can swap only with an object of the same mass. Like with the buildings after we visited Jacksonville." Waler explained.

"You're sure they will keep her alive?"

"I can't guarantee it."

"Alright, Doctor Bishop, construct this device. Peter, we need you to keep her close. Watch everything she does and report it to me. Until we know why she's here, we need her to believe that we are none the wiser. I promise you, as soon as we can cross over, we _will_ get her back."

Peter had never heard such sincerity from the man. He cared about his agents, but Peter always thought Olivia was a special case. He looked at her like you would a daughter. And just like a daughter, he'd do anything to get them home and safe.

oOo

One thing Peter was glad for was that this Olivia, _their_ Olivia, was unaware of Peter and Olivia's relationship. His Olivia had filled him in on everything when they were driving to the Opera House. Going to her house, when _she_ assumed that Olivia loved him, why else would a women travel the universes to save a man? He had mentioned his annoyance at missing an Olivia Dunham Vs. Olivia Dunham fight. What man _wouldn't_ want to see that?

Peter laughed at the memory as he stared down the bottle of beer in his hand. Drowning his sorrows, he had every right too. He wanted nothing more than to go back there and rescue her. She had travelled universes to bring him home. It was his turn now.

"You want another?" the bartender's words pulled Peter away from the memory.

"Nah. Thanks, probably should be heading home."

"Missus don't want you out late?" the man asked,

"No. Don't have a wife."

"Girlfriend?"

"She . . . she isn't going to be here for a while." His head hung low, his mind going back to what his father had said. It would take them a few months before they might be able to cross over.

"Sorry." Everyone seemed to say that when hearing bad news, whether or not they were. It just seemed like a common thing to apologize for bringing it up.

"Do you need me to call you a cab?" the bartender asked.

He'd seen customers like Peter before. Drinking their sorrows away.

"Nah. I'll walk. I live round the corner. Thanks though." He paid his tab and stumbled slightly out the door.

The cool night air felt good on his skin. He felt relaxed . . . or maybe that was the alcohol talking?

He knew Walter wouldn't be home. He'd promised that he spend whatever time he had whenever _their_ Olivia wasn't around, working on the device to cross back over. Since it was well past midnight, Peter was certain she would have gone home. She wasn't the workaholic that his Olivia was. That was one of the many flaws they had seen.

Peter couldn't help but wonder that if she had never killed her stepfather all those months ago and they hadn't gotten together because of it . . . . . . Would he have noticed?

Being so close, so personal, so intimate with her, had that been why he knew the differences? That _her _smile, _her_ laugh, was nothing like his Olivia's? Sure _she_ was relax, light, less-burdened, but the burdens Olivia had, were what made her who she is. It's what made her strong, demanding and protective of everyone.

oOo

He'd spent the night tossing and turning. Walter having come in to check on him twice since he'd come home sometime during the night. It was routine for Walter to poke his head into Peter's room every now and then. He knew his son was in pain, that he missed Olivia more than a man trapped in a desert without water.

And just like every night before Walter had brought everything home with him. Astrid wouldn't let him stay the night at the lab, and if he had to go home, he'd be damned if he didn't take his work with him. He couldn't stop. He couldn't take a break. Olivia depended on him. Peter depended on him to make this work, to get her back.

It started out as just papers. Blueprints, ideas, scribbles, which slowly turned into randomly scattered materials, which slowly took the form of different devices. Large circular devices, small triangular devices. All sorts of shapes and sizes. He couldn't find one that would hold enough power to transport even one person over. He had written down every detail he could remember of William Bell's device, but he was an old man, he couldn't remember them all. There were at least 8 components he was missing, and he refused to stop until he found them. Once he had them, he could then start on building it properly and to the extent to be able to send a SWAT team over. At least that's what Peter had demanded. And Walter agreed. They couldn't risk just sending one person, especially since Over There monitors all fringe-events. They were going to know if they crossed over either way, might as well send an army.

They couldn't know what to expect, but unlike when Walter had crossed over with Olivia and the Cortexiphan kids, they were going to be prepared this time.

oOo

He wouldn't go away. Everywhere she went, he kept appearing. Why was she hallucinating the Secretary's son?

He kept telling her that she didn't belong, that she had to go home. But she was home. What was going on? Was she was still experiencing side effects from her breakdown.

After three days, the pills kicked in. Well, she thinks they did.

All she knows is that she never saw him again.

_A/N: the end paragraph is set before Walternate's experiments on her in the tank, since in this story, they don't happen. Everything in 3x01 happens, but none of the others for Olivia while Over There. _


	3. Renewed Hope

**References:**

3x05Amber 31422 – Olivia remembering Ella's birthday

1x10 Safe & 1x11 Bound – when Olivia is kidnapped by Mitchell Loeb

**Chapter 2 – Renewed Hope **

**~THREE YEARS LATER~**

**Over There**

"Where did you find them!" she asked in complete amazement.

In his hand he held two green avocadoes. He wore the largest grin. He knew that Olivia loved them.

"I will never reveal my source. Got to keep you guessing." Still grinning he kissed her, setting the avocadoes on the kitchen bench.

"So are you cooking or am I?" he asked,

"What do you think?" she was laughing as she said this, taking her glass of wine as she moved to the lounge.

She watched as Frank moved through the kitchen, pulling things from cupboards and pulling out food from the fridge. She didn't know what she'd do if it wasn't for Frank. He could cook. She burnt toast no matter _what_ setting. He was always so neat and clean. She wasn't. The only thing she kept neat and clean was her service weapon. But that was just safety. Frank worked at the hospital. She was usually the one to put someone in the hospital. Although it's almost always justified. They're criminals.

It was amazing how two people almost completely opposite could be in a functioning relationship.

"You do know you're going to have to cook one day?" she heard Frank's voice say, his back to her as he stood over the stove.

"Nah, as long as you are around I'm perfectly fine sitting here and watching." She grinned.

"So, anything interesting today? Any bad guys being chased down by the infamous Olivia Dunham?"

"It was a slow day. Paperwork mostly. But it's Ella's birthday today. She's 13." She smiled, thinking of the teenager Ella. She hadn't seen her in so long. She'd have to remember to give her a call.

Frank just turned and looked at her as she casually sipped at her glass of wine.

"Who's Ella?"

"My sister, Rachel's, daughter." She said this as if it was plainly obvious.

And then it hit her. No, she had no sister. She had no niece. Not anymore.

"You know, if they were still alive." She quickly added, trying to write it off as guilt, hoping he hadn't noticed her stutter. What was going on? When had she suddenly started counting the age of her dead niece, a niece she never got to know?

"You know I never met her, but all those stories you have told me, she sounds like an amazing sister. I've always wondered why you didn't test positive for VPE, when your sister did."

"So have I." She sighed.

It wasn't fair really. Rachel always wanted children. Ever since she was 11 and their neighbour had a baby. Rachel always loved the idea of having children, caring for them. She had this knack around kids. They all seemed to love her. Not Olivia though. Olivia was always the one who got screamed at by some relative or friends baby when she held them.

For some reason an image of Rachel and a child appeared in her mind. Like a flashback, or a memory surfacing. But it couldn't be possible. No, her sister had died in child birth, the child dying with her. But this child looked to be at least 9, maybe 10. She'd never even seen her niece before, yet she immediately knew that this was her niece. This was Ella.

"So, what are you cooking?" she asked, instantly changing the subject, pulling her mind back to reality.

She could dwell on the impossibilities of the conversation and "memory" later.

"You'll just have to wait and see."

**Over Here**

It was no surprise to Astrid and Walter when Broyles stopped by the lab after lunch. He'd been doing that quite often. He'd stop by, sometimes bring food, or beers after work. Astrid wondered if it was a comfort thing. Or because he no longer had Olivia coming to his office to brief him on some weird Walter-experiment that would, in the end, be costly.

A year ago Broyles had been given the order to continue Fringe operations. They had no choice but to continue investigating the strange and unexplainable. Astrid did her best to assist Peter and Walter in the field, having taken over Olivia's role. Someone needed to fill it, but she kept telling herself, 'no, I'm not replacing her, merely a temp till she comes back'. But when Peter pulled out, Astrid had a lot more to take on. Not only filling in for Olivia's role, but Peter's as well.

Astrid had watched the team crumble. Watched that last flicker of hope die in Peter's eyes. Watched as Walter destroyed himself trying to complete the device. He kept holding hope. Kept pushing forward. Even after Peter fell into the black abyss of 'giving up', Walter refused to follow him. But 2 years on, Walter was no closer to completing the device then when he had started. Massive Dynamic could only help so much. Nina had kept giving him hope, inspiration. Nina kept telling Walter that Olivia was strong, that she'd make it through, that Peter would make it through as well.

It was only after the second year when Astrid realised she could describe Peter and his new habits in 5 words, all beginning with 'B'.

Beer,

Broken,

Beard,

Blank,

Bed.

It was beyond sad that his life had become 'B' words. He just moped around the house all day, drinking and watching television. If he wasn't drinking he was crying, or at least pretending like he hadn't be crying, and if he wasn't watching television he would be in bed. He soon became a blank slate. Performing only the basic functions to survive. He no longer cried, and Astrid had begun to wonder if he had any more tears left _to_ cry.

Astrid was sure Walter going insane...again. He spent all his time when not working cases in Olivia's office with his half-assembled device. He was 'working' on it, even if it meant staring at the half completed device praying that the missing components would just appeared and everything made sense.

Several weeks later, when Peter stumbled home, not quite drunk, but not quite sober either, like he had every other night before this, he found Walter sitting on the couch in the dark. Flicking the lounge room light on, revealed him holding a computer tablet.

"I gave her a tracking chip." He spoke. Voice soft, uncertain of something. He didn't look at Peter, staring at the tablet.

"Hmm?" Peter didn't quite register what his father was saying, stumbling to the couch and sitting himself down next to Walter.

"After she was kidnapped by Agent Loeb. All those years ago. I told myself that I wouldn't let her be taken again."

"Walter we had only been working with her for less than a year. Why would you do that?"

"I saw how happy she made you. And how worried you had been when she had gone missing. So I gave it to her. She knew about it. She thought it was a good idea actually."

"So? Why are you telling me this Walter?" he had closed his eyes. So very tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep instead of listening to his father's ramblings.

"Because you'll need it."

"Why, Walter? Why am I going to need something to find Olivia when she isn't even here! It's useless, Walter."

"I finished it."

Peter's head snapped up, he was instantly sober as he took in his father's words.

"The device. I finished it." He still didn't look at Peter, keeping his head down.

"Why didn't you tell me!" Peter exploded.

Why had Walter waited till he had come home, half drunk, tired, annoying, when he could've called him? He could be over there right now saving her!

"I had Nina's help, Massive Dynamic supplied most of the pieces needed, and she had Brandon, that scientist's knowledge of his studies regarding Over There and the research from the Cortexiphan-given children.

"I don't know how many people it can take; I don't know how long it'll last. There are too many variables and potential dangers. I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure that you'd both survive."

"I don't care, Walter! I want her back, now!" Peter looked around before storming into the kitchen.

He returned with two Advil and a glass of water.

"Walter, get your coat, get whatever you need. We're going to the lab, now! I'll call Astrid on the way." He took the tablets, sculled the water and prayed that it'll help sober him up enough for this.

After three years, Peter was finally going to get Olivia home again.

**A/N: okay boring descriptive/fillers done, onto the better stuff :D **

**Like it, hate it, think something could be better for another chapter, Review :D**


	4. Retrieval Of The Lost

_Shout Out to an anonymous reviewer "__**Amy**__"__**: **__I know 3 years seems like a lot, but it was easiest for what occurs in later chapters. And if you think about it, if Olivia's personality never returned, she may have been there indefinitely, well until Bolivia's mission was complete. These first few chapters are mainly to get all the background details and everything out of the way so the last 4-5 chapters are all about Peter and Olivia. That's why they're all squished and not detailed as much as I'd like. _

_ALSO to clear things up, this isn't a murder/Fringe mystery type of story, more (later) fluff, and angst... type of story. It's not an exact sequel, more a sequel/continuity of the theme. _

_I changed to rating to __**T**__ because, well the __**M**__ stuff doesn't come in till the later chapters (then I'll change it), so for now, it's in the correct rating._

**BTW, the 'Scott' in this has no relation to John Scott. **

**Chapter 3 - Retrieval Of The Lost **

Despite the early hour of the morning, Astrid, Nina Sharp, Broyles, Walter, Peter and three SWAT members attached to Massive Dynamics security division, gathered in the Harvard Lab. Not one single one of them complained of the early hour phone call that intruded on their precious, rarely received sleep. It seemed that once their sleep-fogged brains recognised that the speaker had said 'Olivia', 'Device', 'cross over', and 'Ready', everyone was instantly awake.

Michaels, Jordan, and Scott had been the SWAT team originally assembled from the few Special Service men that had been recruited a year before Olivia was trapped over there, a year before their original cross over in the attempt to retrieve Peter.

Everything was strictly voluntary. But no one had to ask these four men. Olivia had saved their lives twice over. Now it was their turn to repay. Olivia was almost like a fourth member of their unit.

"As we all know, Agent Dunham has been trapped on the Other Side for the last three years. We don't know her condition. We won't know her location until we're Over There. Thanks to Walter's _unusual_ habits towards the people he cares about, Olivia has a tracking device in her." Nina explained. Her soft, yet calm and stern voice carried concern and authority amongst the group.

"Ma'am, not to be pessimistic, but . . . how can we know that she is still alive? Don't misunderstand me; I would be willing to do anything for her,"

"According to the Olivia Dunham from their side, they had every intention of keeping her alive while their Olivia Dunham was here. They could only swap them back with an object of the same mass. An Olivia for an Olivia. She was certain that the Secretary would keep her alive, even for this long. As far as we know, the other side has no knowledge of their Olivia's . . . status."

"So how are we doing this?"

"Walter has design the device so that it responds to those who are wearing these bracelets," Peter held up five small black 'wire-like' bands. "The wearer only has to push the button in the centre to transport back and forth." He handed out the bands, "Thanks to Massive Dynamic, again, Nina has informed me that these have several 'trips' in them before they become useless, so no joy-jumping. We have 5 bracelets. One of them for Olivia. Walter and Astrid are staying here, monitoring the machine while Jordan, Scott, Michaels and I cross over. Astrid, we will need possibly medics on standby. We have no idea what state she will be in. We may have to use force to get her back."

oOo

They didn't get many nights alone. But when they did, there wasn't enough time for everything they wanted to do while they were alone.

But sex was definitely the big one. Lots and lots of uninterrupted sex.

Unfortunately, they weren't even past second base before "Agent Dunham" made a sudden appearance.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he wasn't paying attention, completely focused on kissing down her neck.

She pushed up from him, straddling his hips as she turned her ear towards the lounge room.

"The lock."

Frank never understood her acute hearing. It was something that he didn't remember her having until recently.

Olivia got up, still scantily-clad in her panties and a singlet. She swiftly and calmly took out her weapon from the bed-side drawer, making her way out of their bedroom, through the lounge room. She stood to the side of the front door, pressed flat against it. Gun drawn. Waiting.

Frank stood in the kitchen, hidden from view by the wall dividing the lounge and the kitchen.

Olivia watched as the handle on the door moved a few times, like someone was picking the lock before there was a click. The handle turned without a sound as whoever was on the other side opened it.

oOo

Taking point, Scott raised his weapon as he entered. They didn't know what to expect. Easier to expect the worse, expect resistance. It _was_ Olivia Dunham after all.

The second Scott was through the door; Peter saw a gun rise to his head.

Scott felt the barrel pressed against his temple, and turned his head to find Olivia staring down the line of the gun.

Peter, Michaels and Jordan filed into the room quickly, guns aimed at Olivia.

It was obvious that she recognised none of them, and judging from her hostility, she wouldn't leave without a fight.

She eyed Frank in the kitchen, as he watched the scene play out. He was unarmed, and at the moment, these intruders didn't know he was there.

Peter hadn't planned for this to go like this. Sure they'd been expecting _some _resistance. And all in all, Peter could still see Olivia in there. That glint in her eyes as she stood, gun raised at Scott.

"Olivia?" Peter said cautiously,

He didn't know if she'd recognise him. He knew it was a false hope, but he couldn't _not _hope.

"Who are you?"

Peter decided that if he could convince her that she _knew_ him, that she _trusted_ him, even if she didn't remember, it'd have to mean something.

"Olivia Dunham, 33 years old, Sister: Rachel Dunham and niece Ella,"

This bit caught Frank's attention and he glanced to Olivia for a moment.

"You've wanted to be an FBI agent since you were nine, you can't cook for the life of you but you love making cookies with Ella on the Sunday's Rachel makes you babysit."

Ella. It was only recently that she had thought she was alive. Had seen her. But she was dead. Buried next to her mother. Barely an hour old. He knew everything else but got the important things wrong.

"How do you know me?" her hand never faltered. "I never worked for the FBI, and I don't have a niece or a sister, not anymore. If you _really_ knew me, then you'd know their dead. Now either you leave, or I'll shoot what's-his-name here." She cocked the gun, her finger ready on the trigger.

"Olivia. You need to trust me. Either you come back home with us willingly, or we'll take you home by force."

"You do realise your threatening a Fringe Division Agent? Not a good move."

"You _need_ to remember your home! This is not your home." Peter pleaded,

"Liv, like it or not, you're coming with us." Scott spoke. He turned to face her as she took a step back.

Her gun no longer pressed against his temple, but still pointed.

Frank had been watching the whole scene play out, and from his position he saw one of them unclip a smaller gun from a holder. From his angle he knew that Olivia couldn't see it, she hadn't made a move to stop him. His larger weapon covering his movements.

Grabbing the first thing he saw, he ran out of the kitchen, tackling the man. Their bodies slamming against the floor.

Peter watched as Michaels was thrown to the ground, a man pinning him down.

Everything went south from there. Everyone was on edge. Scott and Jordan cocked their weapons, seconds away from shooting him.

"Don't! Stand down!" Peter yelled, but the man kept punching Michaels, blood splattering everywhere.

To Olivia, everything was a blur. A blur of hands. A blur of shouts. And then a gunshot. Echoing through the room like it was the only sound. She saw Frank clutching his chest. The man he had been wrestling with lay dead on the ground. A kitchen knife sticking out of his neck. It looked like they'd both killed each other as they went down.

"FRANK!"

Peter's heart broke for her at the sound of her distressed cry. She had genuine feelings for this man, feelings that use to be for him. But she didn't remember.

Peter watched the emotions flood through Olivia as she cradled Frank's head in her lap. Shock, Desperation, Disbelief, and finally Rage. Peter knew what would happened if they couldn't sedate her. He had been witness to the Olivia Dunham rage.

She launched herself at Jordan. He was the closest one to her. A fury of fists attacking his face. Peter grabbed her. She wiggled and kicked. Her arms and legs thrashing around. Her shirt bunching up under his hands as she did. Peter couldn't help but remember what it felt to touch her, to feel her skin under his fingers. But now was not the time to be reminiscing over old memories. He could have the real memory again when they got back, when Olivia was better.

"Jordan, take Michaels' body."

Still holding a kicking and screaming Olivia, Peter managed to press the button on his band. In an instant flash, he found himself back in the lab.

Michaels' body appeared behind him, Jordan arriving soon after.

"Let go of me!" Olivia tried to push against Peter's iron grip, to no avail.

They were swarmed by doctors who checked her over quickly.

She protested, screaming, kicking and thrashing about. Despite being clad in only her underwear and a singlet, she put up one hell of a fight. She got free finally and knocked out two doctors and punched a guard before Walter injected her with something.

Olivia went limp, her sight becoming slightly blurred, as her legs gave way.

Peter slid across the tiles and caught her just before she hit the ground. Cradling her against his chest.

"No, pl-ple-please, n-n-no, she's all alone." It was barely a whisper, an almost silent sob. She saw nothing but black after that.

**A/N: okay, guys, this has had over 2000 hits and only 5 reviews and two alerts! Can I at least get 4 reviews for this chapter? Pretty please? **

**Also, I need to know whether you all prefer short easy-read chapters (like 1000-1500 words) or the longer 2000+ word chapters? **


	5. Refusing and Revealing

**A/N: Okay THANK YOU for the reviews :D early update just for that**

**Chapter 4 - Refusing and Revealing **

Everything was much easier before Olivia regained consciousness. They could run their tests, check for infections, diseases, everything and anything. They hooked her up to an IV, and managed to feed her through a tube. But once she woke, she refused to eat, screamed and kicked at anyone who tried to touch her. She refused to believe that they were trying to help her. Who could blame her? She was taken from her home, only to wake up handcuffed to a hospital bed with tubes sticking out of her.

The more the doctors or Broyles tried to explain everything, the stronger she built her walls around herself.

They eventually had to restrain her legs as well, after she kicked several doctors who tried to examine her for damage.

Peter visited her every day. Hoping, praying she'd remember. Every day he could hear her pulling on her restraints. But one night, he camped out in the break-room for staff that was opposite her room. Sleeping on the couch allowed for almost no sleep. But the couch wasn't what kept him up.

Peter had never heard Olivia cry. But here, she was crying like there was no tomorrow. Crying like there was no reason to live. And it was heartbreaking for Peter to hear.

Peter couldn't help but wonder if that man, if Frank, had really meant something to her.

After 3 days, Peter had just as much success as Broyles and the doctors.

It tore him up to see Olivia this way. The more he tried to help her, the more damage she'd do to herself. Peter on numerous occasions saw the doctors tending to her wrists and ankles, bandaging them up. After 3 days, they had to wrap padding around her wrists and ankles before re-cuffing her. Peter wondered how far she'd go to get out. How much damage she'd do to _herself_ to get out?

It was a last resort. He swears. He'd never ask him to do this, not knowing what Olivia would do when she saw him.

Walter and the Secretary were completely different. After all, it was the Secretary that had Olivia locked up and her memories altered in the first place.

oOo

A knock at the door the next day pulled Olivia from her daydreams.

"Good morning, Olivia." Walter said politely as he entered the room.

"Let me go or piss off!" she hissed at him, not even bothering to look up him.

Walter looked slightly stunned and hurt at her sudden use of foul language. He'd rarely heard her swear, but when so, only at the enormous mountains of paper work that littered her desk, floor and home, never towards anyone.

She continued to stare out the window, ignoring him all together.

"You know I can't do that, my dear." He took a seat in the chair to the left of her hospital bed. "I wanted to see if you are alright."

Looking up, she saw the grief and compassion in his eyes as he spoke. None of the doctors had that. They were all controlled and bitter, ordering her around, telling her what they were doing and not asking if they could, or asking and doing it anyway when she said 'no'. They didn't really care, despite how much they claimed to. But looking at the man sitting opposite them, she could see that he did care. Compared to the Secretary, this man was full of compassion.

"I know you're not the Secretary. I can see it, in your eyes. You have . . . a kindness about you. You actually care, don't you?" she seemed astounded by her own words,

"Of course I care about you!" he sounded slightly offended, but regained his posture when he remembered that she didn't remember him.

"Will you listen to me if I release the cuffs?" he knew it wasn't a good idea, but installing some faith, letting her know that he trusts her, it was better than trying to force her. The doctors proved how much forcing her to do something worked. She'd become more secluded and stubborn then when they'd first brought her here.

Olivia Dunham is beyond stubborn when someone tries to force her to do something. It's something that lay dormant inside her, to a stranger, she looked the perfect women, but then her stubbornness would appear, it was one of the reasons Walter liked her and why Peter was so attracted to her in the first place.

She wouldn't take shit form no-one, even Broyles.

She deliberated on the thought for a moment, "Okay."

He took out the keys and un-cuffed her hands first and then her legs.

She rubbed at the raw spots were the cuffs her dug into her skin from her fighting against it.

Walter watched her carefully for a moment, watching her thinking over the new situation. She had a free pass to either run and escape, or stay, and find out what the fuck was going on.

Walter settled back into the chair as Olivia sat up, crossing her legs, having made up her mind. She didn't even know how to get back anyway.

"You are like a daughter to me. And I know you don't want to hear this, but this _is_ your home. You were kidnapped by the Secretary and given their Olivia Dunham's memories and personality. They wanted to keep you over there, so their Olivia could work unnoticed here. I know you won't believe me, but it is the truth. You have my word on that." He began explaining,

"I—I, I can't be here. If you care about me like you say, you'll let me go and let me return to my home. I don't care if this _was_ my home before I was kidnapped as you claim, my home is there now. Let me go!"

Walter knew if he couldn't regain power, the situation was lost to him.

"You don't belong over there! You just don't remember. If I could conduct some tests, maybe—"

"No! No tests, no anything. I want to go home!"

"Why? Your family is here? Why would you want to return?"

"She _is _my family! And you took me away from her!" her voice getting louder.

Walter knew he had lost and that Olivia was getting angry.

Her heart rate spiked, alerting the doctors monitoring her outside.

They swarmed in with needles ready to sedate her. They managed to cuff her back to the bed, as she started to become drowsy.

"Who is 'she'?" Walter asked once the doctors left.

Olivia was crying again, silently, having rolled onto her side, her face against her arm.

"She's alone, she has no one. I just want my little girl back." She sobbed, but soon she was asleep again, leaving Walter to ponder what she had said.

**A/N: This is short, I know, but I had to split it with the next chapter.**

**Reviews are like candy, okay no, they're more like chocolate :D**


	6. Protector

**A/N: Okay a HUGE thank you to **helikesitheymikey for pointing out a HIGE mistake. I'm sorry, I've been working on another fic that also has a child, who_ is_ 3, but I must have gotten confused inbetween these two and school and work :/ I'm so sorry. The dates and age is quite important concerning the child, so...

**Chapter 5 Part 1 – Protector **

"Son?" Walter called out, "Peter?" he barged into the lab.

"Yes, Walter?" Peter almost sounded annoyed, believing it to be another one of his father's ridiculous theories or experimental ideas.

"When you retrieved Olivia, was there anyone else with her?"

"Only some man named Frank. I think they were living together." Peter placed his pen down, looking up at his father, "Why?"

"There wasn't a child?"

"No, Walter. Why are you asking?"

"I believe that that is the reason she is so persistent on returning."

"_What_ is the reason? Walter, what are you talking about?" Peter exclaimed.

Walter had a habit of only half explaining or revealing things. He sometimes forgot that the people around him didn't already know, hence why he was explaining it.

"She has a daughter. She kept saying 'she is all alone' and she told me she wanted her little girl back. Peter, we took a mother away from her child. I can tell you, when a mother is taken from their child, she will do anything to get them back, and Olivia was strong and persistent _before_, we can only assume she is more so now."

"Oh god." Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose, taken aback by the sudden news. "What are we going to do?"

"We need to cross back over. If we intend to have Olivia remember and retrieve her own memories and personality back, then we need her cooperation. Giving her back her stability, her family, I believe, from what I have witnessed, that she will be more inclined to listen." Walter explained.

"But wouldn't having the child around make her more attached to the false personality?"

"It shouldn't. All women have a maternal instinct. No matter what the personality and memories are, she will recognise the child as hers through that instinct. She should be able to regain her own memories, and as she does so, having the child around throughout will keep the maternal instinct alive.

"If we were to keep her away from her daughter, it would only worsen her state of mind. She will only want to cross back over; all attempts to get her to regain her memories would be hindered by the simple desire to be reunited with her daughter."

"Okay, what else do you know about the child?"

"Nothing else. She was sedated before I could ask her anymore. I can go back later today if you like, son?"

"No, I should do it. After all, I dragged her back her, I should be the one to find her daughter."

oOo

When Peter went to visit, he found her as he always had, curled into herself (as much as the restraints would allow) crying into her pillow.

"Walter told me. About your daughter. I'm sorry. We didn't know."

"It means nothing, you don't care. All you care about is trying to convince me that I'm someone else."

"I do care, Livia. I care more then you know. Which is why I've chosen to go back. To bring her back, to be with you. You have to remember who you really are, and she is a part of you, no matter who you think you are."

"You're going back? I'm going with you." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

"No. It's too dangerous. We already lost you the last time you went over there, I can't lose you again. I'm going by myself this time."

"Please! I have to go! I need to get my baby girl back!" she pleaded to him,

"Liv, I can't. But I need you to tell me where she is?" Peter asked,

Olivia sighed, she knew they wouldn't let her leave. But she wanted her little girl back. And if it meant trusting this man, then it was better than crying herself to sleep every night knowing that she'd never see her again.

"She's with Lincoln. Lincoln Lee. He always wanted to be an Uncle. Frank and I both had the night off, so Linc offered to babysit. I've been missing for four days now, he'd have kept her at his house, it's the safest, while they came looking for us. By now, they've found Frank," a tear slid down her cheek, "So you can expect some resistance." She shook herself, trying to regain her composure, "How do you cross over?"

"The same way we did with you. It transports us to the same location over there that we left from, but returns us to the lab automatically when we come back."

"Then you'll need to go to the second level of an apartment building, pass me a something to write with?"

Peter handed her a pen and note pad. She stared at the pen as if it were a mysterious object.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah, nothing. I just haven't seen one of these in years." Olivia admired it for a second. She quickly scribbled down the address, her handwriting only slightly messy, making Peter wonder how well they had implanted the memories. Olivia knew how to write. Hell, when they had paperwork, she would be glued to a pen. But that moment, Olivia really seemed confused, and had to concentrate on how she wrote. Like it was an actual difficult feat for her.

"Can I ask what her name is?"

"Lacey. She's nearly 3. She'd tell you she's 2 and 3 quarters." she smiled to herself, remembering when she _had_ said that.

Peter's voice pulled her from the memory, reminding her that she _wasn't _here, "Do you have something you say to her, so she'll know that I'm not going to hurt her?"

She took a deep breath, "Tell her you were sent by Diana. She'll know what it means."

"Diana, as in the Roman goddess? Protector of Children?" Olivia nodded,

"Yeah."

"So, that man, with you in your apartment, was he her father?"

"Yes." Olivia's jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry. We didn't know. We were only defending ourselves."

"You attacked us!"

"We were saving you. _He_ attacked _us_. We had 'no-violence' orders. You may not believe-"

She cut in, "If you can bring me my daughter, I'll try. I can't guarantee that I'll _"remember"_ whatever it is that you all claim I've forgotten, but I'll try. All I want is my daughter. Please."

oOo

Peter didn't wait longer then needed too. He found the address Olivia wrote down. But in this universe it was an abandoned apartment complex with construction signs and a wire fence bordering it off.

Second floor, second door from the stair case on the left. Exactly as Olivia told him. He moved inside, standing in the middle of the lounge area. He pocketed the second band, for the daughter and prepared for the crossing.

It was a bright flash of light, blue, as he crossed over. He hadn't paid much attention to it the first time.

The building instantly changed as he appeared in a furnished apartment lounge room. In an instant, he was slammed against the floor by a sudden force.

"Bishop?" Lincoln Lee had only met Peter twice, but he knew him anywhere. Being the Secretary's famous missing son did that.

Lincoln stood again, unsure of why Peter had returned. Lincoln didn't have a grudge like Charlie did after Olivia clipped him over the head to save Peter. Lincoln, being in love with the Olivia from his side, could tell from the story that Charlie told, that Olivia and Peter were much like Olivia and Lincoln, just with more of the relationship, dating and sex stuff.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here about Olivia. What do you know about Olivia and the Secretary?"

**A/N: A history reference to the Roman goddess: **Diana - Goddess of the Hunt and Protector of Children


	7. Truths From The Other Side

**A/N: I've changed this chapter so many times it's not funny. **

**I got to the point where I gave it to one of my friends to fix. This final version was re-edited by her. **

**Chapter 5 Part 2 – Truths From The Other Side **

"Look, I knew something was up. Liv just doesn't have breakdowns. She's always the strong one." He pushed his fingers through his hair, "I swear, I had no idea of anything the Secretary had planned!"

"Why didn't you help her? Contact us? Tell us what was going on?"

"I couldn't. At first, I even asked Olivia about it but she knew nothing. The personality imprint was remarkable. We found out the truth after about 4 months after all this started. The Secretary, he told us about the switch. He gave us the whole 'we're doing this to save our universe' speech. The Secretary watched me like a hawk for the first month after I knew. Charlie knows too. We we're doing what we thought had to be done, to save our world. To stop the tears and Fringe events. We just thought that once our Liv returned, that they'd send yours back and everything would be alright. But then I found out about Lacey."

"What about her?"

"He planned her. Charlie and I, we did some snooping. We copied some of the medical files, they had everything that the Secretary hadn't told us. After a few tests he found that she was slowly regaining her memories, he feared that she'd try to leave again. They didn't have enough left to re-imprint the personality. So, he found a way to keep her here."

"By her becoming pregnant." Peter nodded. He knew his father, he'd do anything to get and keep what he wanted in order to get his way. "Did Frank know?"

"No, I'm pretty sure he was as clueless as Liv was."

Peter nodded again. Not an 'I understand', more of an 'I heard you, but I'm processing' nod.

"There's more. I think . . . Well, Charlie thought of it first. We don't think Lacey _is_ Frank's. I mean, Frank had gone away; some Doctor-thing and he'd only gotten back 2 days before Liv's "breakdown". The thing is, Lacey was born a month early. The Doctor claimed Olivia was only 8 months pregnant when she went into labour. But Lacey sure didn't look like an 8 month old preemie."

There was a moment of silence before Peter spoke, it wasn't a 'change the subject', in fact his mind was reeling over the information, but he pushed it aside (for now) and went back to the other important topic. Peter needed to know if he knew. Lincoln said the Secretary filled them in, but how much? He needed to know if there was anything else they didn't know.

"So, why was your Olivia on our side? What was her mission? What was so important that the Secretary was willing to kidnap ours?"

"The machine. He found a piece was missing. A piece that your side had. I'm guessing, when Olivia was over there, you found the machine pieces? That was her mission. She was sent to retrieve our missing piece from you."

"Yeah. An Ob—a man, believed to be connected to the machine and events around it, had left a note, a sketch with some unknown writing. The sketch was of me in the machine. Like I was activating it. Walter and the team at Massive Dynamic did some tests and learnt that me, my DNA, my blood activated the machine."

"The Secretary has one as well. That was how we all knew that you were the key, why we needed you over here, why he had you working on the machine parts." Lincoln explained.

Peter continued, "Once we learnt of its true potential we didn't build it. The pieces, they were kept in separate storage. But..."

"But, what?"

"Your Olivia didn't make it. Your side doesn't have the immunisations or the built-up immunity for the swine flu. We had a slight pandemic in 2009, and again in 2012. She didn't have the same immune-system as everyone else there."

Peter didn't miss Lincoln's expression. A flicker of shock, and Peter could swear he was on the verge of tears.

"She told us what was going on. Why she was there and about our Olivia."

"What! Then why did you ask me?" Lincoln demanded, "Why ask me what you already knew?"

"To see what you knew. How much you knew. Whether we'd missed anything." Peter said calmly, "She said she was only following orders, to save her universe, and that she feared the Secretary enough to be a willing participant. Once she knew she wouldn't make it, she attempted to redeem what was left of her nobility,

"She said she regretted what she had to do, what the Secretary would do to our Olivia in order for her to be here. To stay until her mission was completed. All she wanted was to return home before she died."

Lincoln just stared at the floor, "I stayed with her, same with our Astrid and Walter. She didn't die alone; she was at as much peace as she could be. I am so sorry."

"Someone will have to tell her mother. Uh, make a cover story. Maybe, um, say she died too, with Frank. Story circling at the moment is only that a Fringe-Agent was kidnapped from their apartment, where their partner was found dead." He was mattering out facts, statements, solid information, things that didn't let on to his emotions towards the current news.

Peter knew what he had felt when he'd been told that he'd never have Olivia back, that the chances of her return were getting slimmer and slimmer. He knew exactly where Lincoln was right now. That dark, macabre place that seems to be the only friend left. Everything doesn't make sense and the days just seem to drag on. Beer is the closest thing to a best friend he'd have and he'd fall into a depression that would consume him unless he was pulled away.

"Lacey's all I've got of her. A mini-Liv. Even if its not _my _Liv. I know Liv was with Frank, but before all this, she loved me. I know she did." He smiled with a small ray of hope in his eyes, "You better take good care of her, of Lacey. As long as she's safe, everything will be fine." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Lincoln, inside, felt a mix of emotions. Love, Hurt and Pain . . . Understanding. But he knew Peter would take care of Olivia, even if it wasn't Lincoln's Olivia, and her daughter. He'd move on. Sure. There, ah, there was always that cute nurse, Rachel, who always patched him up after a day of fighting bad guys.

Peter, truthfully, he couldn't decide what emotion to feel about . . . everything! It was a fight between complete anger and denial that she had a child that wasn't with him. But he couldn't hate a child, it wasn't Olivia's fault, and it certainly wasn't the child's fault.

Outside, they heard the wailing of police sirens getting closer. He only had minutes to leave, before their Fringe Team, SWAT, and god-knows who else showed up.

"Go. Lacey's asleep, in the spare room. If you're gone, you've crossed over, before they arrive, they'll only detect the Fringe event dissipating. They won't quarantine the area. I'll make sure everything's okay. Just, take care of her, of them."

"I will."

Luckily for Peter, the child was completely asleep, not even him picking her up, cradling her against his shoulder woke her. Taking a moment, he saw that she was the spitting image of Olivia. Beautiful strawberry blond hair. Soft, round face. He'd only hope she had her eyes as well. He had no need to use 'Diana', not yet.

Just as Peter was preparing to leave, Lincoln called out to him.

"Peter, the piece of the machine? What happened to it?"

"She found it just before she got sick. She told us what it was for, how there was only one piece between the two sides. We destroyed it, scattered the scraps of it in different places."

"The machine, neither of them, can be used now. Everyone's safe, yeah?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Lincoln."

"Oh, Peter," Lincoln called out again, "I think. . . .I think the Secretary decided he'd kill two birds with one stone, if you know the saying. "

Peter knew the saying, but not of its relevance to the moment. Confused, Peter pressed the band's button.

A bright light encased the room, momentarily blinding Lincoln. Once it dissipated, Lincoln was alone.

**My A/N: yeah, I know, if they kept crossing back and forth, lots of things would go to shit, but this is fiction. And in my imaginary world where I wrote this, they can cross over as many times as they want with not as many consequences :D gotta love fiction writing. **

**I know it's not such a happy ending for Lincoln and Alt-Olviia, but this is a P/O fic, not L/O, I'm sorry to all the L/O fans, I will make it up to you...eventually :/**


	8. Discharged

**A/N: So this is the start of the second part of this story: the (hopefully) fluffy Polivia, and stepfather-including stuff. No more with Over There, only a little Walternate and the machine.**

**Also, these chapters are completely **_**out of canon.**_

**Also, my two/three-year-old speak is a bit rusty (and considering it's seriously early morning). All of my cousins and second cousins have all grown up now, I think the youngest is now 12. I did the usual, scoured you-tube for vids with two year olds talking, surprisingly, not many that were helpful, so hope it's alright. **

oOo

**Chapter 6 – Discharged **

When Lacey had woken, he told her exactly what Olivia had told him to say, that he was sent by Diana. She'd calmed down instantly.

Olivia had been sedated again after another incident, so Peter was left to care for the little girl until she woke. Keeping her entertained was easy. A few toys, several stories and a failed playing-card tower had her entertained for nearly 3 hours. She giggled a lot, at just about anything Peter did. She had this amazing smile, which every time, reminded him of Olivia. She _was_ a miniature Olivia Dunham in the flesh. In every way. She was stubborn; she would cry and scream "down" every time Peter tried to carry her around, wanting to walk by herself. She had a unique personality for a 2 year old, no wait, 2 and 3 quarters. He couldn't get that wrong. Lacey had already scolded him about it, if that was at all possible from such a young child.

It wasn't until later that afternoon did a Doctor come and tell Peter Olivia was awake. When Peter asked Lacey if she was ready to see her mother, she raced off down the hall but stopped when she realised she didn't know where she was going. She turned back to face Peter, making a whimpering sound. Peter took her hand, letting her walk by herself while he took them to Olivia's room.

He noticed the change in Olivia immediately. The second that little girl was in her arms, she was so much more relaxed, willing and happy.

Peter watched as the doctors came in again to try to complete their examination of Olivia, half expecting to be screamed at and eventually kicked out of the room. But it wasn't the case, not any more. Lacey sat on the bed with Olivia innocently stroking her strawberry blonde hair as the doctors took blood and samples to test. They still didn't know the advancements in 'Over There's' medicine that she could have taken that could react with their own.

Lacey had only been with Olivia for two hours before the questions started. It surprised Peter how long she'd waited before asking the most important question Peter was dreading to hear,

"Mummy, where daddy?"

The little girl was sitting at Olivia's feet, playing with a doll Walter had brought her. Peter could see Olivia's demeanour change completely.

"Daddy had to go away, sweetheart."

Peter's heart clenched at the soft voice Olivia was using and the sound of his nickname for her.

"When he come back, mummy?" the sweet innocence in the child's voice was almost sickening to Peter as he watched her twist the black hair of the doll in her hands.

She didn't know what was going on. Why she was there or what had really happened. Peter couldn't help but be envious. She still had her innocence, her purity, her unbiased belief of the world.

"Daddy is gone, sweetheart. He won't be coming back. He's up in heaven with Grandpa," Olivia looked away from her daughter as the tears fell down her cheek.

She didn't turn back until she felt a small body curl up against her chest. Wrapping her arms around Lacey, they both cried.

"You say granddaddy watches us, from heaven. Daddy too now?"

"Yeah, Daddy too."

Peter, feeling like a sudden intruder to the family moment, silently left, leaving them be.

oOo

"Hello, my dear, how are you today?"

Walter waltz into the hospital room carrying another wrapped box.

"Hi, Walter. Pretty good, all things considered. I'm still not sure about . . . well anything."

"That is perfectly normal. You're like an amnesia patient who, instead of remembering, you started another life in place of those memories. It all takes time." He turned to Lacey who was playing with some blocks on the floor, "This is for you," he handed her the box.

"Oh, look mummy! Mr Walty give me prezzie."

"Where's Peter?"

"He offered to get our lunches. He should be back soon."

Lacey ripped away the paper eagerly, tugging open the box lid. Inside were a pile of clothes. Dresses, shirts, pants, jumpers...etc. All in kiddy sizes, some bigger tehn others, and lots in shades of pinks, but some blue ones and oranges ones.

Watching her daughter dig through the box, she whispered a 'thank you' to Walter.

"Mummy, can I wear this one?" she held up a blue dress.

"Yes, you can. Do you want mummy's help?"

"No, I can do it." She said stubbornly as she disappeared into the bathroom,

"She's got the Dunham stubbornness."

"Just give her a minute." She said, knowing what was going to happen.

Lacey walked back out a few minutes later, half dressed in the dress,

"Mummy, I stuck. Help?"

Olivia got out of the bed, tugging off her jumper which had been stuck over one shoulder, and fixing the dress up.

"See, its okay to ask for mummy's help."

"I know. But I be like you. Im-pen-dent." She smiled brightly at her mother who only laughed.

"Independent?" Olivia corrected,

"Uh huh." She nodded her head with a large grin plastered to her tiny face.

There was a knock at the door, and the trio turn to see Peter entering the room, holding two trays of food from the cafe downstairs.

"I come bearing food." He said, placing one tray with Olivia and waiting for Lacey to sit in the chair opposite before placing the tray on the table in front of her. He'd gotten some jelly and mashed potato for her, unsure if she would be able to handle a sandwich.

"You know, a steak would be nice once in a while." Olivia grumbled, picking over her sandwich and salad. The sandwich was soggy and the lettuce looked like it had been in the fridge for a few days, the edges going brown, and whatever mayo was on it had soaked through and tasted disgusting.

"Well, until you're released, sandwiches will have to do. Sorry, I know hospital food is disgusting,"

"It could be worse. Over There, they feed you with tubes, you can't even taste it."

Peter was happy with her progress. Little as it was, it was still something. She had come to understand what had happened, the differences, the truth. She had started referring to the other universe as 'over there' instead of 'back home'. The only problem was remembering her old life.

"I can only imagine it wouldn't taste as bad as those ham sandwiches." They looked up to see Nina Sharp standing in the doorway. "Good afternoon everyone."

"Hello!" came Lacey's energetic reply, who was happily eating,

"The tests came back; you're free to go home today, after you've finished lunch of course."

"No, no, we can get something on the way home." Olivia was up and out of the bed before she'd finished her sentence. "Where is 'home'?" she turned to Peter,

"You'll both be staying with us. Broyles thinks it's the best and safest options until we can figure out what to do."

Olivia just nodded.

It only took them 20 minutes to pack up the toys and clothes everyone had brought for Lacey and the borrowed clothes for Olivia into a small suitcase.

As they left, Olivia saw someone out of the corner of her eye. She turned, but they were gone, whoever they were.

"You alright?" Peter touched her arm,

"Yeah, I'm still a bit . . . eh."

"'Eh?'"

"Yeah, Eh. You know, 'iffy', 'off', 'meh'. Eh." She shrugged like it was the simplest thing.

The person watched as they got into the car, driving off. Placing the camera into its bag, they started down the street, blending in. All they could think was 'She was back'.


	9. Lacey's Pancakes

**A/N: BIG Thanks to **helikesitheymikey **for asking about some things that I hadn't even thought of putting in, so all added in now :D Thank you, twice now you've mentioned something that I've gone back and added. **

**Chapter 7 – Lacey's Pancakes **

Their second lunch consisted of pizza and ice cream. Peter made Olivia her first coffee since being back, but to her, her first in 3 years. Her excitement only proved to Peter that they still had a long way to go.

While Peter, with Lacey's help, cleared everything, Olivia took herself on a tour of the house. She found her way to Peter's bedroom. Inside, Peter had a range of photographs on the wall and on his dresser. Most of them were of him and Walter, but there were a few, hidden behind another. They were photos of him and her.

Them at the beach, at the park having a picnic, them and Walter at the pool, at a birthday party. All these things she didn't remember, but was supposed to. Everything indicated they, Peter and herself, were in a relationship. How deep, how . . . intimate, she couldn't remember?

"Are you okay, my dear?" Walter asked, having gone looking for her,

"I don't remember these. I don't recognise this house, nothing."

"Have you any memories yet?"

"No, not really. I had a few flashes, when we were in the car. It felt somehow familiar, listening to you and Peter ramble on about god-knows-what. I felt like an outsider, that I didn't understand you. Is that something?"

"Yes. Quite often Peter had to explain things to you because you do not have a science background. You simply did not understand some parts, while there were times when _you_ had to explain things to _us_." He indicated to himself, smiling widely.

She made an 'oh' sound as she placed the photos back.

"It's just so frustrating, knowing that I'm supposed to be this other person. Knowing that Lacey has to go through this as well."

"She is young. Most likely anything that does change, she won't remember it enough to affect her."

oOo

"We couldn't keep your old apartment." Peter said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them, "But, I still have some of your old clothes from before."

"Why do you have my clothes? Did I stay here often?" she curious and suspicious.

"Yeah, you did. You hardly ever went back to your place anymore, and you kind of took up half of my wardrobe."

This made her wonder. Had there been something between her and Peter before all this? It would explain why she felt so comfortable around him. She liked her space, even Frank knew that. But for some reason, she didn't have the urge to shove Peter out of her imaginary space bubble that had formed around her. Instead, she welcomed it.

He took them upstairs, handing Olivia what she used to use as her pyjamas.

"We have the spare room set up for Lacey. And you get my room."

A quick flicker of uncertainty flashed across her face, making Peter add, "And I'll have the couch, until we find better accommodation for you."

She didn't argue. "Okay. Well, I'm going to go tuck Lace in, so, I'll, um, see you in the morning I guess."

Peter could hear her singing softly to her daughter from the end of the hallway as he made his way downstairs.

Olivia stayed with her daughter until she was fully asleep. Taking her moment of privacy, she thought about everything. She didn't know why, but she trusted these people. Her heart trusted them while her head told her to stay away, that they kidnapped her.

_"The heart has reasons that reason does not understand." _It was a quote her mother had told her when she was little. Well, at least the mother she remembers. God, it might not even be _her_ mother. Everything was so confusing.

oOo

Peter woke the next morning to Walter's usual routine. Naked-pancake-making. Only this time he wore a robe. Although Peter could guess he wasn't wearing anything underneath, it was still a big gesture for him to remember that they had guests, one being a minor and the other not remembering Walter's usual routine, and was bound to just walk out to the kitchen not prepared for it.

Once the pancakes were cooked, Walter started serving them as Peter went up to Lacey's room, only to find it empty. Reaching his room, he silently opened the door.

Inside, Lacey was curled up against Olivia. Her head lying against Olivia's chest and Olivia's arms wrapped securely around her.

When Peter knelt at the edge of the bed, Lacey's eyes shot open and she turned around in her mother's arms to face him.

"We're having pancakes for breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs to eat, so we don't wake mummy?" Peter loved how saying that felt. But at the same time, he knew he shouldn't. A forbidden fruit he couldn't have. A forbidden desire, a want, a longing to be able to say that to his own children. Which he had once hoped would be with Olivia.

Lacey climbed slowly out of the bed, careful not to wake her sleeping mother and ran down the stairs to Walter. Peter stood just as Olivia opened one eye to look at him.

"She really likes you, you know?" she yawned as climbed out of the bed.

"Yeah, well I like her too. She's an amazing kid."

Olivia raised her arms above her head, stretching, at the same time, giving Peter a good view of her bare midriff as her shirt rose up over her stomach.

He left the room quickly, and mumbling something about not wanting the food to get cold. He had to contain himself. Olivia, until she remembered, was _herself_ forbidden. It would be like taking advantage. She didn't trust him completely, not yet. Not till she remembered.

They both come downstairs to Lacey crying, head in her hands on the table, her plate smashed on the floor and pancake and syrup splattered on the floorboards.

Peter's immediate thoughts were that Walter had done something, but with the way she _wasn't _screaming at him as he tried to comfort her, Peter could have been wrong to jump to that thought.

"Hey, hey, Lace, what's wrong? What happened?" Peter watched Olivia automatically turn into 'mum' mode.

Kneeling and taking Lacey into her arms, she tucked her hair behind her ears and wiped away her tears.

"Daddy—me—pancakies!" she was crying so hard, she could barely speak,

"Sweetie, take a breath," Lacey did as she was told, her face red as she tried to stop crying, "It's okay. Tell me again."

"Daddy make pancakies."

"Aw, Lace, shhhh, don't cry." She stroked the little girls hair, while rubbing her back with her other hand, soothingly, before whispering, "Daddy isn't coming back, you know that."

"I want Daddy's pancakes."

"What does Daddy put in your pancakes?" Peter knelt beside Olivia as she continued to rub Lacey's back.

"Chocy chips." Her lips were red and puffy, along with her eyes from crying,

"Walter can make you pancakes with chocolate chips."

"With berries and honey?" she sniffled.

"Walter can make anything. Walter _loves_ putting chocolate chips, honey _and_ fruits into pancakes! Come on, you can watch, make sure he does it right, yeah?" Peter told her in an excited voice, watching as a small smile formed on her tiny face.

She nodded shyly, and Olivia stood, taking her to the kitchen, staying to supervise Walter's pancake making.


	10. Family Ties

**A/N: Sorry for a later then usual update. I'd been sick for several weeks and only just went back to work, on a double shift, so I'm sore and all I want to do is sleep. **

**Only a few chapters left in this story, but my exams are coming up, so depending on free time and internet access, updates will be a bit hazy over the next 2 weeks. **

**Chapter 8 - Family Ties **

A week. That's 7 days. 168 hours. That's ten thousand and eighty minutes since she was released from the Massive Dynamic infirmary. He couldn't help _but_ count them. Deep in his heart, he still feared that, even though she now had Lacey, that she would run, try to return to Over There. So he counted. Every day he woke and she was still there so a victory in his eyes.

But it had been 7 days where Lacey never slept alone. At some point in the night, even if her mother had tucked her in, Peter would hear her soft echoes as she tip-toed down the hallway to Peter's room, where her mother was. That's how he found them every morning, curled up together, Olivia holding onto her, like she feared if she held her too loosely, Lacey would slip away. Peter couldn't blame her. She had already spent what must have felt like an eternity without her when they first took her. Peter, if he had known, never would have left without Lacey in the first place. But he hadn't known.

Peter had noticed many changes in her. Bits and pieces, flashes, of her original personality seeping through. Half the time she didn't seem to notice. Old habits appearing, the way she'd speak, or how she'd dress. She'd taken to wearing a grey flower-printed dress instead of one of the other colourful ones.

Olivia had taken to reading to Lacey downstairs. Peter loved listening to her. Watching her interact with her daughter. Even if she was another man's daughter, she was still Liv's, and that's all that mattered to him. He listened as Olivia asked Lacey questions, got her to point to things on the page, and heard Lacey clapping her hands and laughing.

Later, Olivia was settled on the couch in the living room, Lacey curled up in her mother's lap, as they watched the Lion King. Lacey had fallen in love with that film after Walter had shown her it, and several other Disney classics. But Lion King was her favourite.

Peter had been in the kitchen on the phone to Olivia's sister, Rachel for about 30 minutes now,

"No, Rachel, I guarantee she's fine, everything is fine now...Yes...Do you remember? ...Good, that'll make things easier to explain...No, she remembers hardly anything...I think it would help...Yes, bring Ella...Dinner sounds great, see you then, Rachel." And with that he hung up,

"Who's Rachel?" Peter hadn't noticed Olivia's presence in the kitchen doorway,

"You don't remember? She's your younger sister, with—"

"—the daughter, Ella, yeah I remember that part." She said with confidence, "It's still coming in flashes, pieces that don't match up. It's like watching a movie out of order, and not being able to understand, or remember what order it's supposed to be in."

Peter smiled softly, "It'll get better. How's Lacey?"

"She fell asleep halfway through the third time of watching the Lion King."

"Rachel is coming down tomorrow, for Dinner. She's bringing Ella."

Olivia raised an eyebrow, "Does she know . . . about all this?"

"We filled her in on . . . well everything a year after you . . . went missing. We had to tell her, Broyles felt that we owed her that much, owed her at least knowing what happened to you after everything you've done to save and protect this universe. She took it rather well, finding out about everything, not about what happened to you." Peter paused, "They're going to stay the night, I'm going to arrange for Walter to stay at Massive Dynamic for the night, keep him out of the way so you and Rachel can . . . remember. She said Ella missed you."

"How old is she now? 13?"

"Yeah, I think so. I haven't really spoken to them in a while."

"What will she say about Lacey?"

"We'll have to wait and see, but I'm sure everything will be alright."

oOo

Olivia had greeted her sister with a hug. It just felt right, to hug her. Like some sibling instinct, sibling bond.

"So this is Lacey?"

"Yeah."

Lacey clutched at her mother, her face buried in Olivia's hair, peeking out shyly.

Rachel moved to kneel in front of Olivia, "Lacey, I'm your Auntie Rach."

The child peered out from behind Olivia's blond hair, giving Rachel a small wave before quickly hiding her face again.

"Come on, honey, say hi. She's not scary." Olivia coaxed.

"Hi," came the muffled reply.

"So Peter tells me your 2 years old, that's a big number."

"I not two!" Lacey protested,

"She insists on everyone knowing she is 2 and 3 quarters. She's actually 2 and a half, _nearly_ 3 quarters, but to her that doesn't mean she can't say so now." Olivia laughed, pressing a kiss to her daughter's cheek. "I'm not sure whether she's going to be stubborn or shy when she grows up."

"Peter tells me you don't remember much. Do you remember me? Or Ella?"

"Yes, but only bits."

"Well, guess I get to share all those embarrassing stories that you never wanted anyone to hear."

Rachel, Ella and Lacey went into the kitchen, Peter keeping Olivia back for a moment.

"I'm guessing you never told Lacey that on the other side there is no Rachel and Ella Dunham?"

"No. She barely understood when we told her that Grandpa was dead. She only asked because Frank told her that she had two Grandpa's but one was dead. She couldn't understand how her granddaddy was in the sky. I just figured it was easier to wait until she was older to tell her."

"No need now." Peter smiled, "She has an aunt _and_ a cousin." Trying to get her to remember that, and not that according to the memory implants, she shouldn't.

oOo

Dinner went better than originally thought. Rachel told stories, and a few times, Olivia added on, remembering them as Rachel went on and on. They were all the 'happy' points in Olivia's childhood and teenage life, this Peter noticed. Details, important details, like her step-father, all the things that haunted her, the things that made her _Olivia Dunham. _Peter couldn't help but wonder if Rachel knew she was leaving out things. He'd told her to tell Olivia everything.

"She needs to know!" Peter argued in a hushed voice.

Olivia had taken Lacey upstairs, putting her to bed. Ella following, looking just as tired. Peter used the moment to confront The youngest Dunham.

"No, she doesn't. Look at her, she is happy, for the first time since our stepfather left she is happy! What about Lacey? Hmm? Do you want to expose her to such a monster?"  
>"Of course not! But she needs to remember! And he is a vital part of who she is, why she did the things she's done. I only know half of it, you know the rest, you know what happened between them when you were younger."<p>

"I can't, Peter. He destroyed our childhoods, even before she . . . Went missing he was sending her birthday cards, as taunts!" she sighed, running her hand through her hair, "I can't tell her. She's happy. I won't ruin that for her. Can't you just let her be happy, for once?" she whispered.

They left the next day.

**A/N: Bit jumpy this chapter, in all honesty, it was really start-stop-school-work-start-writers block-finish :/ (if that makes sense)**


	11. The Murky Man And The Camera

**A/N: So NaNoWriMo is over, and yay, I made it. Now after nearly a week and a half of editing I am still not done. I did it as a Fringe fanfic, a zombie one, but it is nowhere near finished, so a few edits, a touch up and give it a month or two, I can start posting :D **

**Chapter 9 - The Murky Man And The Camera **

Olivia woke with a start. The sheets around her were damp and she felt sweat on her forehead. It was the third one this week, not that Peter knew of. As far as he was concerned he only knew of the one that she woke screaming from. She'd woken Lacey, who had curled up next to her. Lacey, scared, ran to find Peter, thinking her mum was hurt.  
>Olivia had lied and told Peter she was having nightmares about losing Lacey, which prompted another round of constant apologies for not knowing, and leaving her behind when they came for Olivia.<p>

But it was far from the truth. Olivia found herself being haunted in her dreams. A murky man. A blur of grey. Some unseeable figure who lurked in every corner, behind every door. She had no idea who it was. It only spoke to her once, "my little Olive." and it had freaked her out.

Peter watched her as she trudged down the stairs, baggy t-shirt and shorts, hair all messy. She looked extremely tired. But he decided not to push it. Push her, and she'd retreat. Instead, he made pancakes. Blueberry and Ice-cream pancakes.

Walter was sitting at the table, waiting eagerly with a bowl of corn chips and sweet and sour sauce as Olivia took her seat next to Lacey as Peter placed the pancake-stacked plate in the middle of the table and placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Olivia. She clasped her hands around the warm cup, staring off into space.

Lacey was in a high-chair staring wide-mouth at Walter as he placed several corn chips in the middle of his selected pancake, folded it in half and covered it in sweet and sour sauce before taking a large bite.

A high pitch 'Ewwwwww' stirred Olivia out of her trance.

"Mummy! Walty being silly!" she laughed, watching Walter take another crunchy bite, sauce dripping down his chin.

Lacey's face looked a mix of disgust and curiosity. She was peering over her chair, trying to get closer to Walter and his 'creation'.

"Olivia? Are you alright, my dear?" Walter asked, thankfully, having swallowed the pancake-creation first,

"Yeah, Walter, I'm fine, just haven't been sleeping too well lately."

"Ah, well we should get you outside, out and about. You haven't left the house for longer than 20 minutes." He took another bite of his pancake before adding, "We could go to the park!"

"Park, mummy! We go to park?" the little girl clapped her hands at the idea,

"The park sounds like a wonderful idea, Walter." She forced a smile.

It felt like a dream. Where everything feels too good to be true, to be real. It felt like time had slowed down, for just this moment, letting her watch it closely, like something was telling her that this moment was important.

Watching as Peter pushed Lacey on the swings. Her hair fluttering around in the wind, a huge smile on her face. They were both laughing.

"Olivia! Come on!" Peter waved her over from her seat place at the bottom of the slide.

There was no one else around. The park, empty, silent, but in a good way.

"Sit. I'll push both of you."

She did as he said, settling into the 'larger' swing seat next to the kiddies one Lacey was strapped in. He started pushing her, a single hand pushing softly against her back, just below her shoulders. She lost track of time after that, next thing she knew, Lacey was running towards the playground, sliding down the slide.

Peter hadn't known this side of Olivia, this carefree side. When they'd gotten together, after everything with her step-father, and the birthday card, sure, she was more open, willing. But he never knew of her like this. Her laughter was infectious. He couldn't help but laugh too.

Little did they know, a man sat across the park, camera in hand. He snapped off several shots of Olivia and Peter on the swings, Lacey on the slide and a few of them together, Lacey being swung between them as they made their way back to the car. He cared little for the older man with them; all he cared about was the 'family'.

oOo

It was later that night, much later, and Walter was sitting on the couch with one of his multi-unusual-ingredient milkshakes, watching some late-night program about octopuses.

When he stood to go back to bed, he saw something white at the foot of the front door. Wondering if he had missed some mail, he picked it up.

It wasn't an envelope, just a photo-holder, one of those paper carriers you get at a Kodak store after printing several photos. On the front of the sleeve/flap someone had written _'I Will Always Be Here'_.

Inside were 8 photographs. Peter and Olivia on the swings. Peter and Olivia swinging Lacey. Olivia and Lacey. Lacey and with Walter in the background on the slides.

The last one was Olivia and Peter unknowingly facing towards whoever had taken the photo, Lacey in Olivia's arms reaching out to Peter, a perfect photo, that Walter secretly wished could be in his Family Photo album.

This one had _'you thought you could hide for 3 years?'_ written over it.

**Please Read A/N: **

**In all honesty, I've lost inspiration for this story. It's not my best work, It was really just two ideas wanting to be written that I tried to put together, and I'm not sure that it worked as well as I had planned.**

**I'll try and keep everything plain and simple, but I want to move on from this one, have it complete, so I can start on finishing my NaNo novel. **


	12. Two Birds With One Stone

**Reference: **So we all remember when Peter was Over There (2x22) and was playing around with the machine piece and it kind of locked his arm/wrist to it when he touched it? Yeah, that's the reference.

**Chapter 10 - Two Birds With One Stone **

Walter had hidden the photos in the back of his closet where he hid everything he didn't want Peter to find. Along with some keepsakes and treasures, childhood toys of Peter's. It was a place that Peter would never think of looking.

He wanted to find a moment alone with Peter, without Olivia or Lacey to tell him. Problem was they were never alone. It was either Olivia and Lacey, or Broyles checking up on them or Astrid.

Walter knew this was big. Peter had told him how Olivia and he had gotten together. About the first photo. It, along with all the birthday cards and medical reports Olivia had kept were hidden away in Peter's room. From the looks of the photo's Olivia, Peter _and _Lacey were all targeted. Walter needed to tell him.

oOo

Olivia had agreed to bring Lacey by the lab along with lunch of Chinese, Red Vines (for Walter) and packed food for Lacey. When she entered the lab, she found Walter poking and prodding at the 'stolen' piece of the machine. The one piece not in storage. She found Peter on the far side of the lab, shifting through papers. Handing Walter the Red Vines, she made her way over to him, Lacey walking slowly after her, watching her feet, arms out trying to keep her balance. She'd been walking/crawling for _almost_ 2 years now, but every time was like something new.

"Walter doesn't want me near it. The machine piece. He's extremely persistent with that. He thinks because it's only a small piece and not the whole machine that it's '_reach_' for me would be limited. I'm not allowed within 6 meters of it and the desk. So, here I am," he waved his arms to indicate the lab corner he'd taken residence in.

"Well, I brought lunch," she passed him the Chinese which he took with a huge grin.

"What's Lacey having?"

"The usual. Fish sticks and mashed potato and an apple juice." She handed Peter the bag with Lacey's food, "I'm not sure when, but I think Walter might have shown her 'crayons'. I'm not familiar with them, but she draws with them . . . on paper?" she made it a question,

"Yeah. You'll remember crayons one day. They're all colourful, and you draw pictures with them on paper. We can put some of her drawing on the fridge or in her room for her."

Olivia gave him a smile, "I think she'd like that." She looked around for a second, "I can grab the blanket from the office, we can have a picnic, if Lace will stay seated long enough. She's been running around, exploring, and it's her first time in the lab, so she'll wonder around until she gets bored."

As predicted, Lacey did wonder around. At first she followed her mother, but got side tracked by Walter's ramblings and experiments. She stood next to Walter, tugging on his pant leg for attention.

"Hello, my dear. Would you like to see?" Walter looked down at the little girl who nodded eagerly.

Walter bent down, lifting her up and placing her on the empty space of the bench next to where he was working.

"This here," he pointed at the piece of the machine, "is what I've been working on. I'm trying to find out what it does." He started pointing out everything and what he'd so-far discovered. Lacey had been listening, obviously at her age, she didn't understand but she was so . . . focused, encompassed, engulfed in the object beside her.

"Walter! Have you seen the blankets?" Walter, distracted by Olivia's calling voice, quickly walked to the office.

"No, I haven't..." his voice drowned out as he went further inside,

Lacey, absorbed by the shiny thing next to her, reached out to it. Her hand barely touching it's shiny surface.

It happened in a second. So fast. Her hand became trapped by a thick metal band that appeared from out of the shiny object. Instantly, Lacey started screaming, frantically pulling at her wrist while tears streamed down her face.

Peter was the first to reach her, holding her against his chest while his free hand pushed and pulled, doing whatever he could think of. Olivia and Walter came rushing out of the office.

"What has she done?" Walter cried,

"I don't know Walter, it just grabbed her!"

"Lacey, honey, it's okay, Mummy's here." She took Peter's place, cradling her daughter, wiping her tears, while the two Bishops' worked to get it off.

Then it just . . . let go. Falling from her arm. Olivia stumbled to the floor as Lacey pushed away from the desk frantically.

"This light was not illuminated earlier." Walter stated. He knelt down to Olivia and Lacey, "What did you do?" he asked calmly, more so then Peter had ever seen him speak to anyone.

"It's shiny." _Hiccup_, "I . . . just . . . . wanted to . . . . touch it!" she sobbed, burying her face into Olivia's shoulder.

"It did that to me, back when I went Over There, with my fa—with Walternate," he almost said 'father', but changed it quickly without Walter noticing,

"It was like it recognised me and attached itself to me . . . like it _wanted_ me, and only me. Walternate said that no-one else could get it to respond to them-"

Peter suddenly remembered something Lincoln Lee, from Over There had said to him, _"I think. . . . I think the Secretary decided he'd kill two birds with one stone, if you know the saying." _

Now, it all suddenly made sense.

"He wanted to kill two birds with one stone." He murmured, but Walter heard him,

"How so son?"

"He needed someone else to go into the machine. He knew I wouldn't do it."

"What's this got to do with Lacey?" Olivia said, frustrated and only half paying attention, everything focused on her daughter in her lap.

"Son, the device, so far as we know, only reacts to you, your DNA, _your_ blood."

"Exactly!" Peter began to explain, "I think . . . I _think_ Olivia was pregnant before she crossed over. Walternate needed a way to keep Olivia tied to his world, and if she truly believed that the baby was Frank's, she would have. And at the same time," he paused, unsure whether to continue in this current situation, "He could use the child in the machine . . . in place of me."

"No, that can't be. She's Frank's. She was premature! I had sonograms, and dates-"

"Lincoln, from Over There, he told me that Lacey didn't look like a preemie when she was born, that she looked more like a healthy baby from a 9 month pregnancy." He crouched down to Olivia's level as she clutched to a silently crying Lacey, "Livia, when was she born?"

"She's 3, two weeks from now. Why?"

"When did the Doctor tell you she was conceived?"

"They told me it was-" Olivia looked up at them, suddenly understanding what Peter was getting at. She knew they'd been in an intimate relationship before everything happened. The photos all around his house, her clothes, the fact that half of everything in Peter's room was hers. Or supposedly hers. It couldn't be. Not after all this. Not to Lacey.

"No, no, no, no! They told me the stress had messed with my normal cycle." She was shaking her head, as if trying to convince herself it wasn't true.

Peter reached out to her, "A month before, you and I, we were still together. Liv, she wasn't premature. They lied to you. She's not Frank's. She's mine. Ours. And my father knew that."


	13. Tip Of Her Tongue

**A/N: Okay, so science-facts be damned, I'm not a science or medical person (except sci-fi :P) so I'm not sure the real time it would take for a paternity test, but hey, it's fiction :)**

**Chapter 11 – Tip Of Her Tongue**

Olivia hadn't said a thing. She was completely silent and Peter didn't like it. She wasn't pacing which worried Peter more. She was the type of person who would wear holes in her shoes from pacing when something was bothering her. She sat silent in Massive Dynamic's 'hospital' section. Nina had ordered a test on Lacey and Peter for paternity. They'd only been gone for an hour but it felt like it had been so, _so,_ much longer. Her daughter, her _child's_ life was about to changed.

Everything all made sense now. The early labour. The lack of paternal instincts from Frank towards Lacey. Olivia had always been told that a child, even a baby of a few months _knows_ their parents. Can recognise them. Lacey knew Olivia was her mother. She'd always cuddle closer into her body, her tiny fingers clutching at her shirt as if she'd never let go. But with Frank, Lacey never had the reaction to Frank. Even as she grew up, even when she'd started speaking, "_daddy_" wasn't a word she used often, always calling for her mother, if she could, instead.

So, here they were. Waiting for the truth. Something Olivia had wanted since she's been in this universe. Her _home_. The truth of who she is, where she belongs. The nights when her dreams weren't plagued by the 'Murky Man' as she has so dubbed him, she experienced different dreams. Happy dreams. Dreams filled with hope and love, surrounded by family and friends. More and more frequently, these dreams could only be called 'memories'. She was remembering. Albeit slowly. But nonetheless, things became more familiar, she remembered John and Lucas. But things with Peter were still fuzzy. Like she _couldn't_ remember. Or refused too. Peter wasn't sure which he should believe.

She took a deep breath, seeking out her happy place, to distract herself from present events.

Walter, sometime ago, had taken Lacey to another room with some toys, to keep her entertained and away from the tension-filled hallway. She hadn't noticed her mother's distress, happily agreeing with Walter's idea.

Olivia was still struggling to find her happy place when the 'clip-clop' of heels could be hear echoing down the hallway towards them. Nina approached them, a single piece of paper in hand.

Without even seeing what was on the other side, both Peter and Olivia knew immediately what it said. Nina's expression gave it all away.

She stopped in front of Peter, giving him a brief smile of happiness before turning to Olivia, handing her the piece of paper carefully. She didn't take it, not at first. She kind of stared at it, hoping it would disappear and not destroy everything her daughter has known.

There it was. Proof. Printed in blue and black ink.

oOo

"How are we going to tell her?"

They were alone, Walter and Astrid taking Lacey out for ice creams, giving them to chance to talk things through.

"I...I don't know. Peter, this is going to devastate her. First she thinks that her father is dead, and now we're going to tell her she has _another_ father, her _real_ father." Olivia sighed, "She'll ask questions, about Frank, about you. She knows that families have a mummy and daddy and that they usually live together and see and talk to each other. We've never met you before we came to this universe. How can I tell her that her real father is a man I don't remember ever having a relationship with?" Everything she said came out all at once, so fast Peter barely heard it all. She let a single tear fall down her cheek. "I want to remember, I really do. I hate being this . . . _so_ confused all the time. I'm supposed to remember something or someone but I can't!"

"Hey, hey, Liv!" he cupped her face, stroking away the tear, "It'll be okay. We can tell her whenever you want to. Give it time to sink in for you before worrying about Lacey." She leant her head into his palm, looking up at him, "I promise you, I will help you remember more. I can take you to some place that could trigger your memory. I can take you to where we had our first date? Or where we went to for your birthday—"

Olivia stopped paying attention at the mention of her birthday. Peter kept rambling off ideas, places they could go to, to trigger her memory. But all she could think about was her birthday. Something about her birthday, she remembered something, but it was on the tip of her tongue, she couldn't find the right word. But she had a feeling that the murky man was a apart of it. She could see him, hovering in the back of her mind, saying 'Happy birthday' to her. She remembered the pain behind it, but not what '_it_' was!

"—Liv? Liv? Livia? You okay? You zoned out on me."

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. I'm just-It's been a long day. I'm just going to go to bed. Walter and Astrid should be home with Lacey soon. Could you tuck her in for me? She likes when you read her stories. She thinks your better at it than me. Guess it makes sense now." She said, her mind not really catching up to what she had said, still reeling over everything she'd learnt today.

"She looks up to you, Peter. She copies what you do. You make her laugh. You've done more for her as a 'father' then Frank did. Not to mention her and Walter's food desires. I guess she got the pancakes and weird toppings from your genes."

She tried to smile, she really did, but it only seemed like each day was full of pain or confusion.

Would tomorrow?


	14. False

**A/N: I'm am so sorry I haven't updated, this has been sitting on my desktop for nearly 2 months. I went away for Christmas & the New Year and then got back just in time to be told that I need minor surgery on my leg, both which put a hinder on my internet access. **

**oOo**

**Chapter 12 – False**

Peter couldn't help but think Walter didn't really care when he told him that he was a grandfather. He kept fidgeting and mumbling something about there being 'more problems' or 'causing problems'.

"Walter! Have you heard anything I've just said?" Peter fumed. This was important. Hell, it changed _everything_.

Peter had stayed home today, opting to care for Lacey while Olivia was 'back at work' as Broyles called it. It was more a tester to see what happened when reintroduced into her FBI workplace, the routines, the people. As far as the others at the FBI building knew, Olivia had been kidnapped during a mission, as was the cover told to them when it had happened three years ago, and she had been found and was in a delicate mental state.

While she was there, Peter was playing with Lacey, tea parties, hide and seek . . . all the stuff he missed out on during her first three years of life. She had found some old toys, along with some photos. The photos Peter was currently holding. She had told Peter she had found them in her Uncle Walter's room. That was how Peter found out, not because Walter had told him, but because his three year old daughter had found them while looking for more toys to play with.

"Yes, Peter. No need to shout. I heard you. But you must listen to me. I only kept this from you because I was worried about Olivia. She didn't need more confusion to mess up her progress. But it seems that this revelation has done so already." Walter disappeared in the far part of the house, returning with an envelope in his hands. He held it out, slowly, carefully, towards Peter.

"What is this?" Peter asked, taking the envelope.

"We should tell her. You said Rachel didn't. We should." He said softly.

Peter opened the envelope, pulling out a photo holder. On the front '_I Will Always Be Here'_ was scribbled in marker. Inside, Peter found several photos. Them on the swings together, swinging Lacey, holding Lacey. The last one in the pile was of Olivia in Lacey's arms reaching for Peter. A looks-to-be-perfect-family photo.

"'You thought you could hide for three years?'" Peter read, "Walter what is this? Who gave this to you?"

Walter shook his head. "No one. It was slipped under our door. I only hid them to protect Olivia. She is like a daughter to me, I didn't want her to be hurt again." He was rambling, something he did when he feared he was in trouble.

"Walter, I'm not mad. In fact, you're right. It would have only confused her more. But we need to tell her. Rachel didn't want to tell her and ruin her happiness."

"Perhaps I can call Astroid. Oh, do you think we could get another ice cream?" he asked enthusiastically. "Maybe Lacey would like to come as well?"

"Sure, Walter, that's sounds like a great idea. What about a movie? Give me a few hours to talk to her?"

It's only been a day, but to Peter, it feels like she has . . . retreated. He's caught her looking at him and Lacey, as if she is comparing. Trying to match parts of Peter, with parts of Lacey. In all honesty, Peter could pick out similarities, habits, bits of personality, and pieces of her physical appearance that matched his or Walters, things that ran in the family.

Walter nodded in agreement, disappearing upstairs to dress properly while Peter called Astrid. He knew she would agree to care for Walter, she always did.

Walter came back down the stairs several minutes later, "Son, what if this, her stepfather, is the key to helping her remember? This could be the trigger."

oOo

There was any point in sugar coating it. Olivia was the type of person who did better knowing straight out, rather than having to wiggle through all the lies, and cover ups, and friendly attempts to make everything better and easier. Peter didn't try to lay it on her easy,

"Walter said they came through the mail slot. In his defence, he kept them from us because he was worried about what it would do to you and the progress you've made so far in remembering."

"He shouldn't be worried. The pictures, yes, obviously it is disturbing that someone has taken them without us knowing, but the words, they don't mean anything to me."

"They don't? So you don't remember anything about this?" he held up the cover where _'I Will Always Be Here'_ was written.

"No, I don't. What does it mean to me?"

Peter sighed, he had really hoped that this would trigger something in her, but it obviously hadn't. No, he need more, he needed her to remember everything, from the beginning.

"I'll be right back."

Peter went upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a shoe box. Olivia had, during that time, made some coffee for the both of them and was sitting on the couch.

"These, tell me you remember these?" He placed the open shoe box in her lap.

"What is all this?" she asked with slight fear and curiosity,

"They're, um, medical records, yours, birthday cards, and photographs. Before, you use to keep them all, put them in the box. You used them as a reminded that you had made it past all of it."

"Peter, I don't understand." She didn't even look at the box properly, pushing it away,

"Rachel didn't want you to know, she didn't want you to remember. She thought you were happier not knowing, and for a time, so did I. But this, these photo's," he held the photo's from Walter, "you need to know, you need to remember who this is and what he did to you."

"Who is he?"

"When you were little, your stepfather abused you and your mother and your sister, Rachel. He would get drunk and hit you. Your mother never reported it and so one day when you were nine, he hit your mother, breaking her nose. He drove away. You were only nine but you always remembered this day so well. You heard his car coming back, so you grabbed his gun and when he opened the front door, you shot him, twice. You only regretted not having killed him because he disappeared from the hospital, and every year on your birthday he sends you a card, reminding you that he is still out there and that he knows where you are."

"No, Peter. That's not true. I was never beaten as a child and I never shot anybody when I was nine."

Peter immediately thought he'd gone too fast. Given her too much information too quickly and now she was falling back on the false memories.

"Olivia, you need to listen to me. This is real. This happened. This box is proof of that. Solid proof that this happened to you and not what you think the false memories say happened. Just look at these, please?"


	15. Who Am I?

**A/N: I updated Chapters 12 and this one together.**

**I know the exact events from the show after when Olivia shot her step-father are iffy, but I put in my own version because it worked with everything else.**

**This contains quite a few 'flashes' of 'Home Is Where The Heart Is', I meant to wiggle these in, in earlier chapters :/**

**Chapter 13 – Who Am I?**

She was reading another one, a two page 'report' of an incident dated from when she was 7 years old. Attached to the corner was a picture of her with tape over some stitches that lined her left eye which had turned a dark purple.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks stained with tears. The policeman or woman who had taken the report and photo, had wanted to keep photographic evidence of the exact state she was in after the incident.

The second page of the 'report' was the medical report, listing her cuts, bruises, and how many stitches were needed for each. It was the same as the four other reports she had read in the last half hour.

"And this one?" she handed him a photo of her mother, her face beaten and bruised.

"You told me that that was taken before you shot him, when you were nine,"

_"I told you he was abusive. He would always feet angry, but mum always said it was because he was so stressed, so he drank, and when he was drunk he would hit us. Rachel would hid most of the time when he was drunk. He could never be bothered going to find her to hit her, or yell at her." _

_"I was only nine years old and . . . I shot him. Mum would, _couldn't_ stand up to him. But me, a nine year old did." _

_"No child should have gone through what you and Rachel did. You shouldn't have had to do what you did." _

_"It was justified." _

OOOOO

Peter flipped through the remaining photos in the box, finding the one he wanted, but not showing it to her just yet.

"This is a man who still haunted you even after all these years. Sending birthday cards to you every year so you would remember that he was still out there, alive, that you hadn't killed him. One night he was in your apartment when you came home. I remember you'd been expecting a card all day and it never came. He did instead."

Olivia nodded, looking down at the floor, as she took it all in,

"You shot him, again, but he survived. You stayed with me. That's how we ended up together."

_Peter was near sleep when she spoke,_

_"How long can I stay with you?" Olivia asked. _

_I want to stay, she thought._

_"As long as you need. As long as you want." he replied, burying his face in her hair, nuzzling against her neck. _

'_I don't want you to leave', he thought._

It felt too real, too true.

"I don't like this. Not knowing what's real or not, what's true and what's false." She breathed heavily, "I don't know who I am, Peter!" it came out full of pain and confusion,

Her memories were distorted, everything trying to push up, to claim her mind, mixing together and fading away all at once.

She could see . . . . . _something_. She was in a hospital, she could feel sweat on her face, over her body as pain engulfed her. Somewhere next to her, she could hear Frank's voice, telling her to keep going, she could feel him squeeze her hand, but she couldn't see him, and then the shrill cries of an infant filled the room.

Lacey's birth.

Holding her baby, she could hear Peter, telling her to not give up, that he loved her and that everything would be okay, that he would find her. She felt a sense of belonging when Peter had spoken to her. Her whole life she never felt like she belonged, even with Frank, but those few words from Peter and she suddenly felt complete.

OOOOO

"What did he mean when he wrote that I thought I could hide from him?"

"When you were . . . Over There, you would have received 3 more birthday cards. We had you're mail rerouted to our letter box but no cards showed. You told me that he always found you, no matter where you were, he always managed to find you and leave the birthday card. But for three years he couldn't find you. He must have been watching your apartment to know that you weren't there anymore; otherwise he would have left the cards like he always did." Peter stopped briefly, checking that she was still following along, "from what you've told me of him, it would have angered him to not be able to find you, that you had actually gotten away from him."

"Somehow, he how found out, I'm still not sure, but he left this," he handed her the photo, "under my front door,"

She looked at the photo, remembering the events before it,

_Olivia turned over, facing Peter. She kissed him, moving in to close the gap between them. _

_"Will you be here, when I wake? Or will you pretend like this never happened?" she asked quietly. Half hoping he hadn't heard it._

_"I will always be here, Olivia. This is real, and I don't want to forget about it." he kissed her. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist, his other hand stroking her face. _

_As they staying in their embrace, the near-silent footsteps in the outside hallway stopped at their apartment door. The man slipped a single photo under the door. _

_The photo faced upwards. It was of Peter and Olivia, in Peter's apartment. The photo must have been taken from the adjacent building. It was them, Peter was on top of her, kissing her. In black permanent marker 'I Will Always Be Here' was scrawled out on the top of the photo. _

_He knew where they were. _

_He knew about Peter. _

She could . . . feel it. The love, the passion, the warmth of Peter's hand across her cheek, she could feel the terror that rippled through her body when they had found the photo the next morning. They were so strong, so confusing. If this 'flashback' was real, then what she was feeling were her memories, a recollection of that night, with Peter. But it still seemed so distant. Her mind was barely her own anymore. She could have made up these "memories" from what she read and was told, but it was the emotions that made everything shatter.

Wait, this one, it was . . .

Peter looked up, seeing Olivia's face concentrating on . . . something, "What is it?"

"I woke up, and you were in the kitchen. You wanted, no, you had insisted on making pancakes from scratch." She looked at him then, searching for confirmation that this has in fact happened. A smile had appeared on his face, prompting her to continue telling what she was seeing. "You said that we were lucky to be at my place, because Walter would have been walking around naked again and would make some remark about last night."

She felt happy. The other memories she felt anger, sadness, content, passion, but she hadn't felt such strong happiness from just one memory. Before all this, when she was with Frank, she never felt this. A small voice in her head told her it was because none of that was true, none of it was real, it was something built on falsity. Thinking back now, everything she'd felt then had always had a slight hollowness to it. She'd always had a doubt that something was missing but could never place it.

Now she knew. She knew where she belonged. Even if she couldn't remember all of it, she _was_ remembering. Peter cared deeply for her, and she knew he would help her remember everything. She knew he would be a great father to Lacey. In the end, her home was here, with Lacey and Peter.

**A/N: Not my best ending (or fic to be honest), jumpy and rushed, I know but I really needed to move on so I can finish editing my NaNoWriMo novel without feeling guilty about updates for this. **

**Thank you to those who reviewed and favourite this, I'm sorry that this turned out so shabby, but I have good hopes for my NaNo which I wrote as a fringe fanfic so hopefully that will make up for this :D**


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